


A State Of Isolation

by Neko_Positive



Series: A Rather Peculiar Diet [2]
Category: Final Fantasy, Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Porn, Breaking, Desperation, Drugs, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Poor Prompto, Rape, Rough Sex, Starvation, Tearing, Torture, Trauma, Urination, Violence, Whipping, can be read by itself, explicit content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-25 08:43:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15637227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neko_Positive/pseuds/Neko_Positive
Summary: Prompto has been captured by the Empire and locked in a cell underneath Formouth Garrison. He has been made a deal for his life to trick Noctis into walking into a trap that would cost the prince his life, and Prompto refuses. One of the imperials at the base is assigned to persuade him to change his mind and play along.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really fucked up two chapters, with all kinds of nasty stuff happening, so you have been warned!!! >W<
> 
> These two chapters is an insight of what happens to Prompto during Chapter 11 of my story 'Afflicted', so if you want to know the whole story, be sure to check it out! X3

Prompto didn’t know why, but the floor of the underground cell that he was being held in felt strangely cold. Formouth Garrison wasn’t that far from Hammerhead, so the temperature was bound to be the same, or at least exceedingly similar, but it still managed to be freezing in here. Well, obviously, when you’re captured by the Empire and thrown into a cage, it's not meant to be warm; but this floor was different, somehow. It was oddly icier than the rest of the room’s dark surfaces. 

His hands were cuffed behind his back at the moment, and he had a rather interesting assailant that was assigned to attempt to force him to betray his best friend. Prompto loved Noctis dearly, and he utterly despised the very idea of betraying him in some way, no matter how mildly he could’ve done so. However, these Imperial bastards literally told him to call the prince, and expected him to tell Noctis to walk into a trap that they had set up; without him knowing so, of course.

For some reason, they were surprised when he told them ‘fuck no’, and have now resulted to trying to beat him into cooperation. At least, that’s what Prompto thought they were going to do. Isn’t that how they did these things in movies? They would hang the guy from the roof or tie him to a chair, take off his shirt and pummel his body into a bloody pulp, right?

Rolling over onto his side was painful to say the least, the sheer discomfort of the previous shove to the floor after getting shackled still fresh in both his mind and body. The iron barred gate closed loudly behind the ugly bald guy that was now in the cell with him, and that sneer that always seemed to accompany the lunatic was still frozen on his face. Prompto could not get over how hideous this dude was; the teeth, the head, the whole body, too. The option to either get beaten up or to have to give this guy a kiss was an unattractively deplorable choice.

Prompto had knocked this guy out earlier after he first attempted to join him in the cell. The idiot was thoroughly careless and had obviously underestimated him to be some brainless moron, and stupidly fell for something that a child could’ve avoided with little to no help. Welp, now said guy was apparently out for blood. The gunner was warned by the other warden that this ‘pig’ was not going to stop even if Promptp agreed to collaborate, but the blonde still refused to sell his best friend out. He was going to endure whatever the hell this disgusting little man had in store for him. For Noctis.

“Bet you aren’t so tough now, huh?” the guy sneered from his position a foot away from the gunner. His nose was scrunched up like paper, and his eyes twitched concerningly. He had an unexplainable tendency to do that with his limbs and face. Maybe he was in the womb for too long…

“Obviously not,” Prompto responded casually after a momentary breath, finally rolling onto his back and letting out a more drawn-out sigh. ”My hands are cuffed behind my back, dude. Do me a favour and undo them for me, and then try asking me the question again, yeah?”

Apparently, this guy did not appreciate him resulting to obvious satire, and so with a snarl, the man raised his booted foot up and stomped on Prompto’s leg.

The blonde refused to give this dickhead the pleasure of crying out, instead biting his inner lip and staring him down. “Do you feel better?”

“Do not mock me!” the man raged furiously, glaring with such intensity that Prompto thought for a split second that the man might actually burst a blood vessel.

“Hmm...” Prompto hummed curiously, nodding as if he had just figured it all out. “Tell me, how’s your relationship with your dad?”

The guy stopped moving altogether. His face was still twitching, but he didn’t make any sudden moves. “You think you’re funny, do you?” he spat in what appeared to be disgust, “Go ahead. _Laugh_ while you can. I’d like to see you laugh once I’m through with you, you repulsive little rat.”

Prompto’s eyes widened, his mouth hanging open as he gasped. “That hurt my feelings.”

Despite himself, Prompto revelled in the reaction that he got from the man. He knew he was literally setting himself up for a never-ending torture session, but then again, he was allegedly going to have to do that no matter what. Might as well amuse himself while he’s at it, right?

“I’m going to enjoy your screams,” the man sputtered with clenched fists, “Your delicious cries... I’m going to _feed_ on them.”

“Okay, first of all,” Prompto spoke up as he narrowed his eyes, “that’s disgusting.”

“You’ll be begging for forgiveness,” the man continued, ignoring the blonde with some evident effort, “especially for the things you’re saying right now. But know this—I’m not going to quit, no matter who tells me to.”

“Mmhm...” Prompto hummed from the floor, not retracting his gaze from the man who was practically on top of him, “Your colleague tells me that you’re quite the sadist. Ever been with a masochistic prisoner? You two would get along like a house on fire.”

The man glared at him once more, but eventually managed to tear his gaze away. He dropped his hands to his sides and shuffled through his pockets. His left hand emerged with a syringe, the very sight of such a thing making Prompto’s stomach churn.

“Got a present for you, and only you,” the guy spoke almost quietly, snapping his fingers against the base repetitively.

Prompto couldn’t just lie there and wait for something to happen, instead the blonde making to get himself up off of the floor. The action was thwarted when the guy leapt mercilessly onto his chest, Prompto letting out a strained cry as his arms got squashed between the floor and the burden of the current weight of both him and the man on top of him. Trying to wriggle out, Prompto couldn’t do much more than cry out again when a fist brought itself down against his face, his head cracking backwards against the hard floor. 

Thoroughly dazed, Prompto felt himself get rolled over and his arm getting gripped tightly. The gunner tensed immensely when the needle penetrated the skin of his wrist, some unknown liquid being injected into the vein there.

And then it was over. Prompto couldn’t feel any difference, not even after the guy got up off of him. 

“What the hell was that?” Prompto snarled with his face pressed against the cold, cold ground.

“I told you; a present,” the guy answered, not another word leaving his mouth.

At the back of his mind, the gunner remembered that he had to watch the guy, but he was now especially alarmed by the liquid that was now coursing within him, whatever it was. Gradually rolling over and raising his head to scan for movement, the guy seemed to retreat back to the door, only to return with the hefty bag that he had brought in with him. Taking a deep breath, Prompto had to remind himself that he wanted to make sure the guy thought that he wasn’t frightened.

“A bag full of tricks, huh?” the blonde peered at the bulky bag with what would appear to be curiosity, but deep down, he couldn’t fool himself. He was scared, and he knew it. It was distressing, the amount of anxiety and dread that was blossoming from within him. However, he refused to let it show. The last thing he wanted was to let this guy either see or sense it. “Abracadabra!” Prompto called out to the bag. Nothing happened. 

“Huh,” he huffed, tilting his head to the side, “Boring.” 

“On the contrary, little boy,” the guy smirked sinisterly as he danced over to the bag, the objects within evidently brightening his mood, “This is a bag full of _fun.”_

Prompto had to try and force himself not to yell at the guy not to call him ‘little boy’ ever again, but he managed to hold his tongue. His insides were complaining like crazy; since his arrival, he had received a small box of edible goop that he had forced down earlier, and a metal cup of water that somehow tasted off. He had to pee a while after arriving, him having to settle with the corner of the room opposite the bed. He was mildly glad that he didn’t much of anything to eat, so he wouldn’t have anything to pass. But right now? His stomach was pulsing with famished discomfort, and his throat was burning from the dehydration. Adding those factors to his current fatigue and terror, you could say that he was having a really bad day.

“Well, first things first!” the guy suddenly exclaimed as he opened the bag and knocked it over, articles spilling out onto the floor in the direction opposite him. Prompto could make out some of the things from his position; knives, a pole of some sort, what looked like a whip (geez), and even a one-handed mallet. 

He pondered what the use of that last item was, and so it seemed only fitting for the guy to ostensibly read his mind and pick it up first. 

Making his way back to Prompto, gripping the mallet with one hand, the guy stopped a foot away from his body. 

Staring at the guy, Prompto gave out an exaggerated sigh. “Don’t tell me I have to come to you...”

“Why don’t you try?” the guy responded, that sneer somehow getting wider.

Prompto didn’t really get the question, but he went to move and… nothing. He tried again, to no avail. He could contract his leg very slowly, and his fingers on one hand could bend slightly. His neck could move, along with his eyes and mouth. That was about it.

“W-What the hell?! Why can’t I move?!” Prompto demanded to the guy, blowing the whole ‘not scared’ thing to the wind.

“I was hoping you’d like your present. It just makes my job a lot easier, y’know?” the guy bent down next to him, Prompto struggling not to release the scream that was building up in his throat. He didn’t know why, but the idea of being completely at this guy’s mercy with no way to even move just seemed that much more petrifying. He let out a breath when the mallet was placed next to him, but gasped when his limp body was rolled over once again.

Despite his current, unexplainable condition, he could still feel the shackles being removed, his arms sliding uselessly but painfully onto the ground, informing him that he wasn’t just numb. Then what was it? Some kind of drug that prevented physical movement? That kind of thing existed?

Prompto shut his eyes as he was rolled back over onto his back, opening them to the sight of the man’s obscene teeth grinning down at him. The mallet was picked up again, and the guy repositioned himself to be on the blonde’s right side, the hammer placed down next to him. 

The guy’s filthy hand slid along Prompto’s arm, and the gunner had to force himself not to gag. “This arm… you’ve trained and hardened it quite nicely, haven’t you?”

There was a pause, Prompto’s eyes narrowing more and more. “…Are you making a pass at me?”

It seemed that the man couldn’t even hear him. “I felt how strongly it gripped me, how I couldn’t even breathe under its pressure…”

Prompto felt vaguely uncomfortable, the memories of choking the man earlier flashing at the back of his mind.

“I don’t ever want that to happen again. And so, my first act of violence shall be…”

Prompto could only stare as the man’s hand left his arm, slithering closer and closer to the mallet until his fingers curled around the handle. A million thoughts and emotions blew up from within Prompto at that moment, mostly because the mallet was busy being raised above the man’s head.

“N-No, no no no, d-don’t do that-“ Prompto couldn’t prevent himself from begging erratically, call it a survival instinct if you will, his eyes bulging as he watched the mallet gain more and more height, right until it stopped rising. His heart felt like it had stopped.

“P-Please, no, don’t- don’t do-“

The mallet was brought down with gruelling vigour and rapidity, meeting its mark right against his forearm so quickly he didn't even have time to tense. Prompto was suddenly aware of an ear-piercing screech emitting from somewhere, but was in too much pain and shock to even recognize his own voice. His arm was searing, pain bursting forth like electricity to the rest of his body, his mind over clouded with the horrid sensation. 

The mallet was lifted off of him, but Prompto was too busy screaming to pay any attention to it, his body shivering and spasming as if he was actually being electrocuted himself. That was, until of course, the mallet was brought down once again, a little left of the previous spot. His full attention returned to the object as his wail of complete and utter agony resounded throughout the room. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t move, the same thought repeating itself a thousand times, the blonde still unable to tear away the limb. For a second, he now wondered if he even could.

And then, to Prompto’s utter consternation, the mallet was lifted once again. The continuous flow of tears that were cascading down his cheeks blurred his vision, but he could still only watch in horror as the hammer gained height once more.

“Stop it!” Prompto screamed frantically, the words coming out shaky due to his overwhelming trembling, “Please, don’t hit me aga-“

The mallet was brought down mercilessly, this time hitting between the two previously struck points, a disturbing crunch echoing along with Prompto’s shrieks. The sudden, excruciating pain was bewildering. How could something so extreme, so overwhelming, be endured by just him alone? How could this much pain be comprehendible? He couldn’t understand it.

Sure, he had been injured before. Badly, even. But he could move, then. Adrenaline was usually on his side as well, followed by a quick potion. But now? Now he couldn’t do anything but endure and suffer, and his mind was struggling to cope with the onslaught.

A profane string of curses slipped out of Prompto as he lay there, the pain that had now travelled throughout his entire arm not dying down.

He wanted Noctis to come and save him. He thought that he could handle this, but the image of his now-oddly positioned arm spurting blood over the floor was contradicting original his will. Nothing else mattered, other than getting this guy to stop. He couldn’t take it, he’d do anything...

...But could he? Would he? Sacrifice Noctis’ life just to end his own pitiful suffering? 

Prompto bit his lip until blood bubbled out, the blonde slowly shaking his head as he squinted his eyes shut in realization. No... he couldn’t do that; not even for this torment to cease.

“What, no witty comeback?” the guy smirked, picking up the now-bloody mallet from the floor and lifting it up. For a dreaded second, Prompto thought that he was going to move onto his other arm.

But, praise the Six, the man chucked the mallet away, the hammer dropping with a heavy thud against the metal floor. “That’s for earlier, you pathetic little shit,” he growled, losing the sneer as he glared down at the blonde. 

Prompto could only manage a whimper, his mind screaming for him to move, his body seeming to betray his mental commands. It was infuriating, to say the least.

“I think it’s time to move onto the next phase, wouldn’t you agree?” the man inquired, tapping his finger against his jaw thoughtfully.

“G-Get... the fuck... away from me...” Prompto growled, his voice parched and raw from the screaming.

“Oh ho,” the man laughed forcefully, “Still a little fight in you, huh? Most of my previous prisoners were already spilling their guts by now. Well, what's the fun in that, am I right?”

Prompto sniffled as his tears began to sting his eyes. “You’re a sick, twisted, and evil person.”

“Aren’t I just?”

The coldness of the floor was still pressed against his body, but the heated anguish of his arm was flooding his body like a furnace. The mix of temperatures made him want to throw up.

“Okay, time to get rid of these pesky clothes,” the man nodded to himself, walking the short distance to the spilled bag of ‘fun’. He returned with a pair of scissors, the blades managing to catch the dim light from outside the room. “Hold still, will you?” The man grinned ominously wide.

Prompto couldn’t move, but if he could, he’d be shrugging away from the man. Still smiling, the guy bent over him, sliding his fingers into the scissors’ holes. Panting heavily, his chest rising and falling at a frantic pace, Prompto managed to shake his head, albeit gradually. “Stop this... Please...”

“Oh?” the guy raised his eyebrows, peering down at the blonde. “You’re willing to give up the king, now?”

Holding his breath, Prompto shivered uncontrollably. “I can’t do that.”

“Well then,” the man announced, continuing to move the scissors closer to him, “Just lay back and let me do all of the work.”

Prompto couldn’t move. Couldn’t prevent the scissors from slicing through his shirt, couldn’t prevent the man’s disgusting hands from removing his jacket, and was unable to resist the guy’s hands from undoing his belt and sliding down his pants. 

He was left naked, besides his underwear, his crooked arm still throbbing and bleeding out. He couldn’t even blush, couldn’t feel the shame of this wretch staring down at his bare body. He was in too much pain to even care.

“Hmm,” the guy hummed as he observed Prompto, “Not bad.”

“Fuck you,” Prompto snarled.

“My my, what a filthy little mouth you have!” the man dramatically placed his hand in front of his mouth as if in shock. It was obvious this disturbed bastard was enjoying this, relishing in this moment of pure domination. “Guess I’ll just have to punish you.”

Prompto just lay there, willing the pain in his arm to dissipate. For himself to fall unconscious. Or even for the guy to faint or something. How was it possible that not even two days ago he was sharing a tent with Noctis, having laughed and joked with him and holding no possible knowledge that a few hours later, he would’ve been stolen by the Empire to be tortured. It seemed unthinkable.

His attention was brought back to his bald captor, the man grasping the whip he saw earlier. “Do let your voice out, will you? Just an extra kick, you understand.”

At first, Prompto forced himself not to let a single cry escape his body, but sooner rather than later, the continuous lashes across his chest, arms, and legs proved too much, the blonde screaming as the next lash also struck his face. He could feel it swell immediately, the torturous, burning welts all over his body screaming at him, his mind falling into haywire. 

“Finally!” the man exclaimed as he brought the whip down once again, the leather criss-crossing with two different welts, Prompto crying out in complete agony, hot tears streaming down his face. “Was thinking you forgot how to open your mouth!” Between livid sobs, Prompto could sometimes form words; begs and pleas and such, but they would always be drowned out by his own howls as the man would ignore him and bring the whip down once more.

Prompto lost count by the time the man had finished, and his consciousness was obviously dwindling. He could feel his systems shutting down, his mind going blank. The pain that was dancing across his entire body was being swept up into a wave of overcoming numbness, the welcoming pleasure of such a thing overwhelming.

“-Hey, did you hear me?!” the man screamed, apparently again. Prompto couldn’t really hear him, the sounds being replaced by a thrum of static noise. He was so tired, and now he could finally rest... 

At the back of his mind, Prompto wondered if he would wake up.

“Oh, nah-ah-ah!” the man audibly said, but Prompto didn’t care. His eyes closed slowly, his shivers dying down gently. 

Prick. Blinking with his eyes shut, Prompto was vaguely aware of a sharp but mild pain in his wrist. Not that it mattered, anyway. He needed a break from this. Forever, to be honest. At the back of his mind, he sent his best wishes to Noctis, Gladiolus, and Ignis. He hoped that Noctis- no, he _knew_ that Noctis would purge Eos and save the world. He’d just have to do it without him. The thought would've brought tears to his eyes, if his tear ducts weren't already dried out husks by now. Oh, well.

Everything was black... but there was still pain. Resurfacing pain, attacking his skin and muscles, his right arm shooting pulses up to his shoulder. Prompto suddenly realized that everything was dark because his eyes were closed.

His head shot to the side, eyes snapping open, his cheek burning from the slap. 

“Wake up!” the guy yelled, eyes narrowed in anger, “We’re not done here.”

Confusion washed over Prompto like a wave, the blonde unable to comprehend how he was still awake. He was passing out, he knew it. Scanning the room for an answer, the gunner’s eyes fell upon another syringe in the man’s hand. He injected his wrist with another drug. Most likely to prevent fainting.

“Y-You... asshole...” Prompto growled, the disappointment and sorrow of his denied slumber crushing. This couldn't be happening. It wasn’t fair; he didn’t deserve it. 

“I can’t have you passing out on me. I have a job to do, and a deadline, in case you’ve forgotten,” the man explained as he chucked the syringe behind him, uncaring for where it landed. 

“And we aren’t finished yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> plz don't kill me >M<


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompto gets broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to check the main story 'Afflicted' out for more insight! ^w^

Still in the same cell as he woke up in, Prompto’s time was occupied with the most sinister of activities, the gunner’s throat aching and burning after all of his cries and screams. The drugs that were injected into him were proving themselves to be quite efficient, his body still unable to move, his mind still unable to shut down. He was wide awake, and he swore he couldn’t take much more. It hadn’t even been hours yet, but there were people who endured torture for weeks on end and lived to tell the tale. Prompto didn’t know how they hadn’t all turned insane. 

The Imperial bastard was still at it, the blonde wondering how his body was not tired enough to take a break. There were the punches, occasional choking sessions, kicks to his bare sides, and even a taser to try and convince him to comply and cooperate in their murderous scheme. Prompto had begged the man to stop many times, the sick freak only stopping half of the times he beseeched him to do so. But every time he did, he put that rancid smirk on his fleshy face, and asked if he would do what they wanted. Prompto tried promising favours of every kind, anything he could do for the officer as long as it didn’t involve Noctis, but of course, the man refused. 

Prompto had thrown up on the floor twice, but the guy made no move to clean it up. He just dragged Prompto to a different spot in the cell, his limp arm screaming in detestable response. The rancid smell was almost unbearable, but he made no complaint; his mouth was occupied with raw screeching. It had been a while after he was injected, and he could, with avid effort, intensely focus on one of his limbs, and clench the muscles once or twice. But that was still all he could do. 

Sighing heavily, the man finally dropped the cane he was holding, the long staff clanking to the ground. “What the hell is with you?! Why don’t you just agree already?! You will do it no matter what, so why delay the inevitable? What good is you resisting?”

Prompto was too busy choking on his own saliva and blood to respond immediately, his entire body alight in fiery pain and stinging welts. Those spasms that he had experienced earlier were now rocking his body even more fiercely, and he had bit his own tongue so many times that the gunner wondered how he had not crushed through it yet.

Struggling to get his breathing even close to controlled, Prompto opened his eyes to the man’s bulging, angry eyes glaring down at him, waiting impatiently for his response.

Coughing up blood once again, the excess liquid streaming down his chin and neck and joining the puddle on the floor, Prompto wheezed slightly, his voice struggling to reach his throat. “Y-You... won’t... st-stop... even if... I d-do...”

His broken words were all he could manage, his vision hazy and unfocusable. Maybe it was a side-effect of the drug, or maybe it was the sheer degree of fatigue, exhaustion, and body trauma that he was experiencing. Who knew?

The man seemed to contemplate him for a second, humming in what appeared to be thought. “I have never executed such a long punishment to a prisoner before, not even to ones that have done worse than you.” His eyes glazed over Prompto’s beaten, bloody body with a look bordering disgust. “I feel you have payed for your mistake, and have learned not to fuck with me. Do as I ask, and I shall leave you. Do you hear me? Contact the king, and I’ll leave this cell forever. Do you not want that?”

The idea sounded too good to be true. Prompto was beginning to forget why he wanted to do endure this so much. For Noctis, he had thought. For Noctis, for Noctis... for... Noctis...? The prince could take care of himself. It’s always been like that; he didn’t need Prompto. He wouldn’t fall for a trap so easily, no way. Prompto didn’t need to go through this anymore. Noctis would be fine.

...But what if he wouldn’t be? What if the reason that the saviour of Eos was murdered, was all thanks to his best friend who betrayed him to spare himself some suffering? Was Noctis not worth this pain he was enduring?

Prompto didn’t know how, but he started crying again. He had believed that his tear ducts had dried up long ago, but the idea of Noctis dying was too much for him to handle; let alone the idea of Noctis dying because of the gunner’s own actions. He couldn’t take such a risk. He loved the prince too much.

“I... refuse...” Prompto whimpered, his eyes stinging from the spilling tears of misery.

The man snarled with such sudden animosity that Prompto flinched, the guy lashing out with a kick to the gunner’s side so hard that he spun around, landing on his broken arm. His screams filled the cramped space of the cell, the precipitous attack so unexpected that the instant influx of pain literally blinded him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you tenacious little shit?!” the man raged violently, making no move to adjust Prompto’s self-harming position. “I’ll lose my job if you don’t do it, do you understand?!”

Prompto was too busy howling to make a comeback about not being able to care less.

Waiting way too long for comfort, the guy finally kicked Prompto over, the blonde’s dead arm throbbing and shooting out even more blood. He was beyond lightheaded, and lights danced across his vision with intense luminosity. He could’ve sworn that he was dying. He was literally bruised and bleeding from every inch of his now-disgusting figure. It had been years since the sight of his own body made Prompto feel sick, but the almost-familiar feeling had resurfaced, just under a much different circumstance.

A sudden, crushing sound alarmed Prompto, but it was a sound similar to glass, not bone. The gunner nearly swore out loud when he felt the potion’s magical contents washing over his body with certain speed. Welts, blood, bruises, they all lessened in appearance and pain. The portion of agony that was now being eradicated from his system made Prompto cry out in pleasure, not having felt so much relief since he got here. It was intoxicating, the pain he was now experiencing pathetic in comparison to a minute ago.

“You’re going to call the king right now,” the man growled with hatred lit up on his features, “Or I’m going to be forced to take some even more desperate measures. And trust me, a potion won’t help you recover from _that.”_

Prompto was panting heavily, his arm no longer bleeding. It was broken and disfigured, of course, the potion nowhere near strong enough to mend that, but it had healed skin and some swelling, and for that Prompto was beyond thankful.

But it didn’t fix how tired he was, both physically and mentally, in body and soul. He had withstood so much, to throw it all away seemed stupid. But going through what was just healed seemed even worse.

“T-There has to be... something else that I could do...” Prompto muttered loud enough, eyes pleading. “Please... Anything...”

The man shook his head in disdain, spitting on the ground to his left. “I warned you. I fucking warned you.”

Prompto hoped that the potion would’ve helped to purge his system of the drugs, but he was still rendered immobile due to their effects. He tried to move his hand, and suddenly froze in horror when he set his eyes on it. He was so preoccupied with the whole torture thing that he didn’t even feel his wrist band get removed. The tattooed barcode on his wrist stuck out through the blood that caked his arm, visible in the darkness against his pale skin. The gunner’s stomach twitched anxiously.

This guy had injected his wrist. He must've seen it, right? Did this monster not even care? Was he too fixated on breaking him to even notice?

“You’re really stressing me out, you hear?” the man snarled from his feet, slightly distracting his attention to the guy scratching his hands over his bald head, “And unfortunately for you, I see only one way to calm myself down.”

 

Prompto took a breath before looking at the man, expecting him to be holding something even worse from the pile of ‘fun’ than before. It wasn’t until the guy started unzipping his pants did the blonde really start panicking.

“W-What the fuck are you doing?!” Prompto demanded as the guy started to remove the article. As if his face wasn’t bad enough, the sheer amount of hair growing from every crevice on this guy except for his head was nausea inducing. 

“I’m done with harming your exterior. Now it’s time to get a bit more personal.”

Prompto started shouting for help; he couldn’t help it. No fucking way was this happening. His disbelief was thwarted when the guy slipped off his underwear. “Time for some fun, wouldn’t you say?”

When the other jailer said this guy was a pig, she wasn’t exaggerating. 

“Get your filthy hands off of me!” Prompto wailed as they guy gripped his shoulders and started to drag him to the bed. The freezing cold floor attacked his bare skin, but Prompto paid no attention to that trivial detail. “Please, no!”

The man propped up against the side of the bed, grabbing his inner thighs and propelling him so that he would stay up in the position.

“I’ll kill you if you put that thing anywhere near me,” Prompto threatened, but the crack in his voice betrayed his intensity.

“You’ve brought this on yourself,” the man smirked as he began to stroke his flaccid member, Prompto forcing himself to look away.

“Please don’t do this... I’ll do any-” Prompto was about to say anything, he realized. “...Anything else, just please... don’t do this!”

“You just try and bite me, fucker,” the guy snarled as he reached full hardness at record time. Turns out ‘sadist’ didn’t sum up whatever the hell this guy was.

Wait... Prompto grimaced at the guy’s previous words. _Bite_ him...?

Hands clamped down painfully on his bad shoulder, Prompto gasping loudly in sudden and unexpected pain. The guy took the response as an opportunity to force his length down Prompto’s throat before he could close his mouth.

Prompto gagged immediately, the sickening flesh successfully choking him. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as the man continued to have his way with him, moaning softly as he fucked the blonde’s mouth. The sudden horror that washed over him combined with the disgusting taste and asphyxiation of the member in his mouth and down his throat proved too much Prompto, the gunner biting down with unhesitant force.

The man screeched louder than he had done this whole time, Prompto tasting blood as his teeth dug into the intrusive cock, the guy raining down merciless punches to the gunner’s face again and again until he finally let go, his head and face burning with even more blinding pain. The guy flew backwards, his voice shrill and panicked as he cupped the bloody disfigurement that was his penis. 

Still crying out, the man hobbled over to the spilled pile of tools, howling in frustration as he couldn’t find exactly what he wanted fast enough. Seconds later, he bent down and ripped away what looked like an elixir, the guy crushing it immediately. After he managed to push down the disorientation that those strikes to his head had brought, Prompto could only hazilynstare as he watched the man’s now flaccid cock heal.

And then the guy looked up at him. Oh, shit.

 _”You motherfucking shithead!!!_ he raged as he seemed to seizure on the spot, his entire body doing that twitchy thing as he pointed daggers with his eyes at the blonde. Prompto fully expected the guy to come at him in his fury, but instead he spun around and bent down to grab something from the pile.

Whilst the guy was distracted, the gunner tried his damned best to move. The drug was definitely losing some of its potency, Prompto moving his toes, fingers, and slightly bending his left knee. He was so busy trying to regain the movement of his limbs that he didn’t even realize the guy had stopped clawing through the stuff on the floor and was making his way over to him.

Letting out a strained breath, Prompto looked up to receive the guy’s hateful glare, both his hands holding an object. In his right, a flask, and in his left, a lighter.

Prompto cried out when the guy popped the cap off of the flask, leaning over to pour it over his left arm. Fighting the panic, Prompto could smell the strong and overwhelming aroma that came with the amber-coloured liquid that the guy used to douse his arm. It wasn’t alcohol. It was petrol. 

Lighting a flame in his other hand, Prompto only now comprehended this guy’s plan. “O-Oh Gods, please n-no, I’m so-so sorry, I-”

He dropped the lighter.

Prompto shrieked as bright flames lit up his entire arm, spreading to the ground and attacking his hip and thigh. No matter how hard he tried to tear away from the licking blaze, he couldn’t even move his limbs as the same section of his body continued to burn, a pain more excruciating than he had ever felt mutilating his arm.

 _”Put it out!!! Put it out, please!!!”_ Propmto shrieked as his skin charred black and deep red, the stench of cooking flesh filling the cell.

After he had screamed so loudly the jailer from earlier came running, the guy finally got a towel, not even water, and slapped his burning side until it went out, the jailer outside the cell screaming obscenities at the guy after taking in Prompto’s obscene figure, the floor, the guy’s naked lower half, and the horrid smell. The guy told her to go fuck herself.

With an enraged scream, she stormed off, leaving Prompto and the guy alone once again.

“Thought she’d never leave,” the guy snapped as he grabbed his own penis once again and walked closer to Prompto, “You’ve been keeping me busy, you fucker, I’ve been holding this in for ages...”

The guy sighed again as he started to urinate on Prompto, the hot liquid streaming down his shoulder and arm, the gunner screaming in dismay. His current pain was so immeasurable, he could feel himself start to pass out, despite the drug. Or maybe he was just dying. This much trauma in such a short time, no matter how many drugs he injected into him, could be fatal.

The flames had grown in the time the guy left him to burn, the fire having licked at his face and melting away his skin. Prompto couldn’t even form words, his mind overwhelmed with too much, too soon... he was dying. He could feel himself starting to shut down. He was in too much pain to even consider last words. Not even last thoughts. Just begs for this pain to be over. That’s all he wanted.

But the Gods liked to fuck him over, apparently, the guy having finished pissing all over him and leaving for another potion. Prompto knew that because it was currently being used on him, not healing half of the wounds the flames had inflicted. The gunner opened his mouth slowly, nothing coming out but a strangled wheeze. It was so dry in his mouth he couldn’t bare it. 

“Do you feel better, you little shit?” the guy glared down at the gunner’s body, the charred flesh and bleeding surfaces all having healed into painful looking deep pink and red blotches. It stung so much that Prompto started crying again, much to his own amazement.

“I-It... h-hurts...” Prompto whined as the tears spilled down his cheeks, not doing much for the harsh burning on his cheek. 

“Good,” the guy snapped angrily, “How do you think it felt to have my dick bitten into, you ignorant fuck?”

“M-Make it go away, please,” Prompto begged, his words coming out likes the whines of an animal that was hit by a car, “Please... I’m s-sorry...”

“Well, get over it, because that’s all you get,” the guy snarled in a final tone, starting to touch himself right in front of Prompto’s tortured frame. “Now, are we ready to continue?”

“...I’ll do it,” Prompto whispered, the words coming out before he could even stop himself. Not that he would’ve. That was the last straw; he couldn’t take anymore.

“What was that?” the guy demanded as he gripped Prompto’s chin and forced him to gaze up at him, the blonde crying out as the man’s fingers dug into the burn wound.

“I’ll do it!” Prompto cried, the blonde shaking uncontrollably. He willed the constant shivers of his inner body to spread to the rest of him so that he could move. He wanted to kill himself.

“You’ll contact the King? You’re serious?” the guy inquired as he gave Prompto a hard slap for no reason.

“I’ll do it!” Prompto repeated yet again, his voice raspy and pained. Not like the guy would care.

“Well, alright!” the guy exclaimed, his member flopping around as he did a stupid little dance unbefitting of someone who just tortured a man. There was a pause whilst he stopped moving. “And I know just how to do it!”

 

Prompto protested. He tried his best to escape; but all he had at his disposal was his words. And they didn’t do as much as he would’ve hoped. The gunner flinched as a tiny portion of an antidote was literally injected into his left arm, the ability to movement slowly spreading up until it met his shoulder and stopped. He couldn’t shoot his arm up, but he could bend his forearm.

That didn’t matter right now, because Prompto had his knees against the piss-covered floor, his stomach laid out over the bed, and his ass propelled outwards. He was in a defenceless position, and he knew what would come next. His underwear had already been sliced off, another strike whipping down on his pale cheeks, the blonde crying out in nothing but pain.

“Damn!” the guy remarked as he massaged the globes, riveting in the handprint that he had probably left, “If I knew you had such a great ass, I would’ve started on it a long time ago.”

The gunner was crying; he couldn’t help it. He cried out when he was slapped again. He cried out when the man grasped his hips without mercy, and he _definitely_ cried out when the guy shoved his cock inside of his ass, no lube, no nothing.

In one cruel thrust, the man was balls-deep within him, Prompto screaming in horror as he felt his insides split. The monster continued to fuck up into his heat with abandon, Prompto’s shrieks of pain probably only turning on the freak even more.

“Okay...” the man sighed as he thrusts one more time fully into Prompto, the gunner giving out a soundless scream. “I think we’re ready.”

Pulling out Prompto’s cell phone from his jacket pocket, the man handed it to the crying blonde. “Call him now, bitch.”

“N-N-Now?!” Prompto wailed as the man continued his ruthless pace of thrusting.

“Did I stutter?” the man glowered as he raised his arm and slapped Prompto’s ass even harder than before, the blonde howling in agony. There was so much on his mind; his ass was getting torn apart, and he could feel his own blood leaking out and acting as crude and vulgar lube. The burns were hurting so much more now, Prompto couldn’t even explain it. His right arm lay uselessly across the bed, the gunner unable to even look at the swelled-up limb.

And now he had to trick his best friend into walking into a trap that will get him killed.

“Take the fucking phone!” the man demanded as he ruthlessly slapped the back of Prompto’s head. The gunner whimpered as he obeyed, slowly grasping his cell phone in his left hand.

“Now call him.”

Prompto sniffed quickly, his tears overflowing as he swiped across his familiar wallpaper. The guy slammed into him again, the blonde screaming as he felt the cock intrude into his split and abused hole once again, and staying there. “Hurry up,” the man growled, not moving his hips anymore.

Prompto nodded solemnly as he chose Noctis from his contacts, the call going through as he held it up to his ear after putting it on speaker. 

...Gods, forgive him.

 _“Prompto!”_ Noctis’ voice yelled out, and Prompto could’ve melted right then and there. He was scared he’d never get to hear the prince’s voice again.

Apparently, he was taking too long, the man behind him quickly pulling back and thrusting back inside.

“Ah- Ah, Noctis...” Prompto forced himself to speak up, his ass screaming in torment and his voice coarse from crying.

_”Are you okay?! Where are you?!”_

An uncertain feeling blossomed in Prompto's stomach. This was wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be doing this. This was _wrong._

The officer didn’t appreciate his wordless response, roughly pounding into him as he dug his hands into the gunner’s hips. Prompto cried out, nearly dropping the phone.

 _”Prompto?! What was that?”_ Noctis demanded, his voice sounding panicked.

Prompto tried his best to calm his ragged breathing down, the man whispering for him to say he stepped on something.

“S-S-Sorry, Noct... I-I...” Prompto took a breath, the man’s cock throbbing inside of him. He was getting off to this. The blonde wanted to throw up again. “...stepped on something... sh-sharp.”

It wasn’t a second before Noctis spoke up again. _”Where are you?!” _he repeated quickly.__

__“The truth,” the man whispered as he kneaded against Prompto ass, bile rising up in the blonde’s throat._ _

__“Formouth... G-Garrison...” Prompto told him, the man scratching down his back, the rough sensation uncomforting, “I’m in a cell.”_ _

There was a bit of a pause, and Prompto got worried that Noctis could hear the guy that was both behind and in him. _"They let you keep your phone? It was you who called earlier, right?”_

__

__Prompto remembered how he had managed to call Noctis after he had tried to escape. If only he had said something sooner, he wouldn’t have to be enduring this._ _

_”Prom?”_ Noctis inquired, his voice anxious.

__Oh yeah, he was talking. “Y-Yeah, I called earlier. I...” Prompto turned his neck to see a glimpse of the man behind him. He nodded for him to continue, not giving him any further instructions. “...managed to escape the cell and grab my phone,” he lied, hoping his weak voice didn’t give himself away, “I called you, but I was surrounded by MTs before I could actually say anything. They threw me back into the cell...” And how did he get his phone back? …"But I managed to snatch my phone back from one of the guards. I... uh, don’t know why he had it. Probably to tease me.”_ _

__He had fucked up. That was a pathetic excuse. The fingers against his back turning sharp and digging into him indicated so._ _

_”Are you okay? Did they hurt you at all?”_

__Prompto blinked painfully, his body aching in this position. “Say you’re fine...” the guy whispered with violent promise._ _

__“...The MTs, they...” Prompto answered a tad forcefully, “uh, roughed me up a bit... but other than that, I’m fine.”_ _

_”Okay, okay,”_ Noctis said quickly, the relief in his voice making Prompto want to scream, _“That’s good. We’ll come and get you, okay?”_

__“Yes!” the officer whispered, unintentionally shifting his hips, Prompto taking in a sharp breath of pain. “U-Uh... ah, yeah,” he feigned affirmation._ _

_”Alright... Before you go, Prom, do you have any idea why they’ve taken you?”_ There was a pause. _”...Is it to get to me?”_

__...What was he supposed to say? The guy leaned forwards, pressing against his ass painfully, Prompto letting out a gasp right as the man pressed his hand over his mouth, successfully muffling it, and used his other to put some distance between the phone and them. “Say we’re going to sell you,” the man whispered urgently, obviously a bit stressed in this situation. But not enough to take his dick out of him._ _

__Prompto nodded slowly as he bent his arm to get the phone back to his face. “S-Sorry about that, a... a guard walked past,” he lied, the officer giving an approving ass squeeze, much to Prompto’s disgust, “W-What was the question?”_ _

Noctis didn’t answer right away, and Prompto was suddenly petrified that he knew something was up. He was both relieved and upset that he answered. _“Do you have any idea why they’ve taken you?”_

__“Uh, maybe... They... said something about selling me, or something...” Prompto only realized now how flat his voice had been. He couldn’t bring himself to care._ _

_”Selling you?! What the hell do you mean, selling you?!”_ Noctis shouted into his ear.

___The prince’s worry for him brought tears to his eyes. “I... I-I don’t know...” he whimpered._ _ _

_”We’re on our way, Prom,”_ Noctis vowed with confidence, _“Do you hear me? You just hang tight, okay?”_

___The feeling from before started spreading. This was so wrong. What if Noctis died? He couldn’t live with himself if that happened. The pain he would feel from that would be worse than what he’s currently experiencing. Fuck what happened to him! He was stupid to even agree to this! He had to say something...!_ _ _

___“Noct!” Prompto screamed loudly, the man gasping in shock from behind him, “Don’t-”_ _ _

___The phone was immediately snatched from his grip, the man hanging up and sending a swift punch to the blonde’s head. He pulled out of Prompto, the gunner crying out at the disgusting feeling. Fot a split second, he wondered if this was what it felt like when he had pulled out of Noctis when they had sex. He doubted it._ _ _

___“Nice try, fuckhead,” the guy snarled as he punched Prompto right in the back, the blonde gasping as he curled against the bed slightly. “But I’ve already got what I wanted.”_ _ _

___It was done. He had done it. He’s betrayed his best friend. Thick, bubbly tears started spilling as Prompto lay there, waiting for the guy to leave him to his misery._ _ _

___“You’ll regain your body’s ability to move in an hour or so,” the man told him as he pulled his clothes back on, heading over to the bag of ‘fun’ in the corner and packing up. As awful and filthy as Prompto felt, he could at least take relief in knowing that this was over. No more torture. No more rape. Now he could only wait for Noctis._ _ _

___A little while later, the guy had the bag held in his hands. He gave a sick little bow before he opened the gate, locking it once he went through. “Until tomorrow,” the guy promised, Prompto’s entire body locking up._ _ _

___“What?” the blonde asked in a dull, dull voice._ _ _

___“You were foolish enough to believe that I’d had enough fun with you. I’m going to use you until your king comes to die. And right before he goes boom, I’ll send him a picture of you once I’m finished playing. Just so that he has something to think about before he dies.”_ _ _

___Prompto’s screams echoed again and again as the guy turned to leave, walking down the hall._ _ _

___The fear and disgust, everything bad that he could be feeling, all exploded within him at once. Prompto threw up on the bed, and he used the only arm that he could move to push himself away from the mess._ _ _

He slammed onto the floor, his body throbbing, his mind screaming. His ass was leaking out blood, and it felt like his insides were ripped apart. His burns did what burns did best; they _burnt._ The memories of the torture that he’d endured these past few hours was still fresh in his mind.

___And now he had more to look forwards to. After he had lied to Noctis._ _ _

___It was right then and there that Prompto did something he hadn’t done in a very long time. He cried himself to sleep._ _ _

___If Noctis managed to survive this..._ _ _

___ _

___ _

___Prompto would want the prince to kill him._ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it... >W<


End file.
